Finally
by tridecawho
Summary: When Rex's father dies, he is sent to an orphanage somewhere in Texas. Melissa must find him. Midnighters owned by Scott Westerfeld.
1. Chapter 1

Everything Melissa's mind picked up; the tastes of old women's minds as they bargained for the best prices, the children running in the streets against their mothers' calls, the troublemakers hiding in the shadows of alleys; all this was clouded by the adrenalin running through her body.

"Are you sure this one is it?" Jonathan asked, looking over in reluctant exasperation. Since Rex hadn't given Dess any information, Melissa and Jonathan had had to drive all over Texas looking for the right orphanage. Finally they stopped in this small, run down city.

"Yes." Her voice shook. "I can taste him."

Her door clicked open and she climbed out into the street, looking across at the small, high building. She felt Jonathan come to stand next to her after a few moments.

It happened very quickly; Melissa, in great anticipation, jumped forward to cross the street and see her Rex, finally after all the time they'd been apart, after everything that had happened.

She heard Jonathan call her name behind her, and didn't have time to stop before his hand shot out and grabbed her bare upper arm, stopping her just before a car zoomed by.

The sudden burst of thought and emotion from his mind was unexpected, and so, unguarded. There was none of the carefulness or control that Melissa had used when she used to touch Rex freely. First she felt his burst of energy as he saw her run out in front of the car, his automatic response to grab her, and then the pain that came as a result of it. More slowly, she felt the permanent emotions that he felt more often than the fleeting, temporary ones; him missing his father, his old life, and devastation over Jessica's condition.

She pulled away as his bitterness added to her own, and realized how much worse Jonathan probably felt than she did, due to the current state of her own mind..

She looked back at him for a moment, and then, without a word, ran across the street and into the gray building.


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Hazer didn't look up as Rex entered his office.

Annoyed, he said, "You wanted to see me?"

He nodded, still looking at his papers. Rex zoomed his efficiently working eyes onto the stack and saw that it was his file, as a resident of this "Children's home". He stepped forward on the spotted rug to sink into the chair adjacent to Dr. Hazer's desk. The air flowed out of it as he sat down, wafting the smell of soap in the room temporarily out of his face.

"How are you doing?" The doctor asked.

"Fine," Rex answered. There was no point in providing any other details; it would only give the man more questions to ask and ways to pry.

"Anything I can help you with here? Are you comfortable?"

"I'm fine," he retorted, a little more forcefully.

He nodded again. "All right, then." He took a breath, but still kept his eyes on his papers, as if gearing up to bring up a difficult subject. "You had some old friends named Jessica, Jonathan, and Melissa, yes?"

The name was like a punch in the stomach; it sent a painful wave of adrenalin through him.

"Yes."

"And they disappeared almost three months ago?"

Rex nodded, hoping the conversation would not continue.

"Do you know anything about where they may have gone?"

"No, sir, I don't."

The man continued to nod, as if he understood the situation. "But, you see, we still have an interesting situation on our hands. The state—your state, that is—is very interested in those people."

Rex's tone pierced the doctor's careful indifference. "And they weren't three months ago?"

He looked up, finally. The sickly fake concern on his face was broken through with a whisper of annoyance. "That's beside the point," he said, finally. "Officials think that you may have an idea where they might have gone. You were romantically involved with this, Melissa, yes?"

Another punch to the stomach followed. Rex swallowed, and shook his head.

How the hell did the _state _know this?

"I don't know anything. They didn't tell me. They didn't tell me they were leaving."

"I see." He wrote something down and stuck it into Rex's folder, putting another sheet in front of him. "Well, any information would be very helpful. You have to understand the pain their families are going through—it must be unbearable."

Rex's heart picked up pace in anger. His darkling temper was much stronger than his human one, and this man's ignorance threatened to overthrow him. Didn't he realize that Rex was hurting, too? That he suffered more pain than anyone?

He glared at Dr. Hazer with a look that made him look up from his files and back into Rex's face. He could sense the fear that pulsed through him as he looked hurriedly back down.

"Is that all?"

"W-well," he stuttered, "this has come back into the attention of the, uh, state, because of a memorial your old school is holding for the missing persons."

Rex scoffed at the idea—a memorial to remember and respect the people who were most hated by his school—well, Melissa was, anyway. But then he realized the possibility.

"Dr. Hazer," he asked, suddenly polite and attentive, "can I go?"

He shifted in his seat. "I have discussed this with your old school board and the parents of your friend still living there, and yes, we have arranged for you to go—"

"Really? Thank you!" Rex exclaimed, before calming himself. He'd been in the orphanage for a week, and it was already suffocating him. Maybe he could do what Dess had first suggested and call the others while he was there. Run off with them.

He stood up, ignoring Dr. Hazer's protests.

"Thanks, Haze. Gonna go pack."

"Wait, Mr. Green, I have more questions about your fr—"

But Rex was already stepping outside the office into the lobby, where he saw what he'd just been dreaming of.


	3. Chapter 3

"Hi," Melissa said to the overweight woman at the desk in the lobby. "I'm here to see Rex Green."

The overly made-up woman looked her up and down, from her dyed-black hair to her long dress and chain-covered ankles. "I'm sorry, we ain't takin' visitors right now." She drawled in a thick southern accent.

"It's very important."

"I'm sorry miss, I just can't let you in."

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself." Melissa extended her bare hand across the desk. "I'm… Ashley. And you?"

"Darla," she said, ignoring the outstretched hand. Hers were under the table.

Melissa would have to resort to different tactics.

"That necklace is beautiful," she said, moving her hand to touch where it rested on her neck. She was so close to changing this tacky woman's attitude, Melissa could almost taste the anticipation in er own mind.

But the woman clasped a hand over the spot and rolled her chair away.

More forcefully, she said, "Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, or else call in someone else to do it for you."

"But you see, Rex and I are old friends and—"

"Frankly, I don't care what you are to him, miss, I'm not going to endanger the children livin' here. So if you could please remove yourself—"

"Melissa?"

She turned her head to the left, where she saw him emerge from an office behind the desk. He looked older than when she left, and far more run down—there were dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders stooped down.

But he was still her Rex.

He took one step forward, and she ran the rest of the way to him, into his arms.

She didn't realize how much she missed him until this moment, finally trapped in his arms again. The sweetness of reunion was far more pleasant than anything she imagined. He was finally _there._ She finally got to be with him again. It was almost as great as the first time they touched, if not more.

His body was warm against hers, the skin of his neck soft against her cheek. He threw his arms around her own back, enveloping her in a seemingly permanent embrace.

Time seemed to stop, however typical; the screeched protests of the receptionist went away, as did the soapy smell of the room. All that either of them were aware of was the feeling of each other's bodies, and the feeling of them simultaneously lifting their heads and pressing their lips together.

Rex's darkling thoughts and tendencies had fled at the sight of Melissa and all she made him feel; she made him feel human. More human than he had felt in months.

These human feelings flowed into Melissa, the relief and love and longing. She was sure similar emotions were meeting Rex's lips at that moment, but all she cared was to finally be with him again.

_Run._

Melissa broke free and gasped a breath against his lips, before shaking off the thought and kissing him again.

_Run!_

There was no shaking it off this time; Rex was telling her to run. But she had just got there. She was finally with him—she didn't ever want to leave.

_What are you talking about?_

_Dr. Hazer—the psychiatrist here—he's suspicious. He thinks I know where you went. He's trying to find you. You have to go. _

Melissa broke free from the kiss and looked at him. She wanted to protest, she wanted to just kiss him again, but she tasted the man's mind behind just one door—and bolted.

She stopped at the lady's desk where she stood, dumbfounded, yet still yelling. Now that she was standing, all Melissa had to do was reach down for the woman's wrinkled hand.

"Nice meeting you."

In less than two seconds, her work was done, and Melissa ran out the front door. She could taste Rex's mind, stuttering at the doctor who had just left his room, trying to distract him.

Jonathan stared at her, still standing in the same position against the car from less than two minutes before.

"Get in!" she yelled, pushing him around to the passenger side and slamming her own door closed.

Once his door was opened, she could hear his meaningless inquiries—couldn't he just learn to do what she told him, especially when running frantically away from something?

The car started quickly, pushing them back against their seats. Melissa ran a yellow light at the end of the block, making a sharp left turn.

After another turn, she parked the car haphazardly against the side of the street and looked up into the window of the back of the orphanage.

_I'll meet you at midnight._

And she was on her way.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey guys, look! The fag decided to stay up past sunset today!" James turned to his friends, scoffing at Rex's consciousness. For the past week, he'd collapsed into sleep the moment he hit his bed, suffering from severe emotional exhaustion. He'd slept past laughs, screams, and whatever else James and his four friends had done to him. There were six of them in the room, the only six boys in the orphanage. There was another boy, Rex heard, who used to occupy the seventh single bed in the small room. But he was young, and was fostered more than the rest of them, who varied in ages from thirteen to seventeen.

Everybody left as soon as they could.

Rex ignored the group's jeers and went back to anticipating midnight, his first to experienced in the foul place, since he had slept through the rest of them. His first in this place would also be occupied by Melissa.

"You hear me, kid?"

Rex turned his head away from the wall, where he'd been staring. The beds shot out from two walls in the room, his from the wall with windows, and James' from the wall opposite.

"I said, quit staring at me." He turned back to his friends and laughed. "Told you he was a fag."

The insult shouldn't have particularly insulted him; he didn't find much wrong with being gay, and he knew he wasn't. But a new defensiveness overcame him; he didn't want anything to interfere with his happiness at seeing Melissa, and he had a strange sense of pride at being with her.

"Actually, I have a girlfriend." The words came out casually, a simple statement. But with them came a renewed flutter of anticipation and pride, bringing him again back to their embrace earlier that day.

Also with the words came James' rising temper.

"What?" He looked back at his friends, smiling, and then turned back to Rex. "You trying to be a smartass, kid? Think you're better than me?"  
Rex sighed inwardly. James was just another Timmy Hudson; there was one everywhere. And there was nothing to do to change them.

"Too good to talk to me now, he thinks he is!" James' voice grew in anger. He threw out a foot and kicked the end of Rex's metal bed, making it roll to the side on its wheels.

James should not have done that.

Rex shot out of his bed, closing the distance between him and his prey in one quick step. How stupid these humans were, to provoke a predator. How vulnerable. He towered over James by a least a half a foot. Looking into his face, he pulled back his lips from his teeth into a sick grimace. Rex could feel his apprehension, could feel James' strength failing to overcome the fear. At a last attempt of superiority, James spat out, "Hah, you're acting like some kind of animal?"

_You don't know the least of it._

Rex through James back with such force, he tumbled over the metal rail at the foot of his bed.

He could _sense _James' mortification, the clear and easy defeat. Rex could have gone for more, taken the kill. But he restrained himself.

At one last struggle for victory, James laughed to his friends. "Freak," he said, looking over at Rex.

But Rex didn't care. He didn't even care he'd let his darkling self overcome his humanity for a short time; Melissa was coming. And when Mrs. Martz came to shut off the lights a few minutes later, his heart soared even higher. Lights out is at eleven thirty on Fridays. Melissa was on her way.


	5. Chapter 5

Melissa parked her car in the same spot she had haphazardly done earlier that day, behind the building.

She could taste Rex; his closeness was intoxicating. She contemplated saying hello, but decided against it. It would be better to surprise him, to greet him in person.

Although the time would be painful, she vowed to wait it out. There were only five more minutes before midnight, five minutes before she could see Rex. Back before she left, before Dess had found Madeleine and Rex turned darkling, five minutes alone would have been a terrible feat. But now, she was able to sink into the comfort of her _own _thoughts, and ignore the petty ones of those around her.

Or, she thought, she could listen to Rex's.

As the minds around him drifted into dormancy, Rex's grew more and more alert. She could taste him trying to keep his thoughts off of her, to distract himself and make the time pass less slowly. She felt it as he reflected on the day's events; the conversation with Dr. Hazer, their teasing reunion, and the fight with James.

Fight?

Melissa tried to pry farther into his mind, manipulate him into subconsciously giving off information. But try as she did, Rex's mind strayed again back to their embrace earlier and the longing to see her, and she could not break through his anticipation.

When she looked again at the clock, it read midnight.

Of course, no clocks are completely accurate to where the sun is in relation to an exact spot on the earth. Melissa figured she had at least five more minutes at most before midnight would hit.

But, when Melissa next allowed herself to look at the clock, it read ten after midnight.

What?

She stepped out of the car, scurrying through the narrow grassy land between the side of the building and the fence separating it from the next. She walked until she was under Rex's window, two stories above her.

She could taste him, still waiting for her in his bed, no knowing of the time.

_Rex._

_Melissa—you're early. _She could feel his excitement, his happiness.

_No. Midnight's late. It's ten after._

He didn't answer, but she could taste his un-projected thoughts; he hadn't stayed up until midnight once yet at the orphanage.

Was there even a midnight there?

"Shit," Melissa said out loud.

There were several moments of silence in which neither of them spoke; neither of them knew what to say or what to do.

_I'm sorry, Rex._

_What for?_

Melissa considered telling him all she was sorry for, but decided against it. She wanted to be with him. _With_ him.

_I don't know. Sorry I got your hopes up, I guess._

_I'm the sorry one_. _I should have known about midnight. Is anyone still awake in here?_

Melissa tipped her head back, up to the window where Rex and his roommates lay. She didn't have to concentrate much.

_Yes. Two are. You can't come down._

She sighed, and caught herself up in a wave of disappointment that made it difficult to focus her eyes, or think coherently to Rex.

Finally, she gave up.

_Meet me at the gas station to the right of this building at twelve, tomorrow afternoon._

_Make it eleven?_

_All right._

Melissa began to walk back down the grassy alley, out of the darkness but away from Rex's mind. He called her back.

_What is it?_

_Can you stay? Could we just—talk for a while?_

She snickered softly to herself. _Don't you mean think?_

_Either one works._

_Okay._ She found a clear enough spot to lean against the fence, looking up at the window behind which Rex projected his thoughts.

_I missed you, Cowgirl._

_Same here, Loverboy._


	6. Chapter 6

Rex could feel the pebbles of broken asphalt through his thin sneakers, and sense the trails of where various humans had walked, the fine remnants of blood where a child had fallen.

Against all odds, he had overslept that morning, shaken from dormancy from the scream of a fire truck outside, with the lingering taste of Melissa in his mind. He had been thankful that he didn't wake before dawn as he always had since he'd gotten to the orphanage, and didn't have to wait out the hours until he could see Melissa.

It did not take long. There were only two buildings between his and the gas station, and a street to cross.

There she was, ironically standing in an ordinary, routinely way, filling her car up with gas. It was now that he could finally view her in entirety; she had grown thinner, and her skin had a translucent emptiness that made him want to hug her. She was standing away from him, so he could not observe her face, but he noted that her dark hair now enveloped her head in tousled four inch pieces. It had a somewhat fairy-like quality to it.

Melissa turned around, finally looking at Rex where he stood at the back of her car. He'd apparently been thinking too loud.

A rare smile found its way to her face, as did a slight blush, seeming to push back the translucency.

"Well howdy, Cowgirl. How are you on this fine mornin'?"

She tipped an imaginary hat and jammed her thumbs into the belt loops of her pants. "Mighty fine, Loverboy, how are yeh yourself?" she said in an exaggerated southern accent.

"Better," Rex replied, looking into her face with a serious expression.

"That's good," she said in her normal voice, abandoning the farmer stance.

The silence stretched on between them, both just looking confusedly at each other in the hot Texas sun. Both seemed content with the silence, though. This was the silence of reunion, the second reunion, where there was no urgency or shock or surprise, just happiness and acceptance.

"What are we going to do?" Melissa's whisper broke at the end and she looked at him pleadingly.

"Let's get out of here," Rex said, wishing he meant for good. "Let's get a room or something. Not—I mean—you know what I mean. I just want to get out of here."

Melissa nodded and closed her wallet. "Get in the car," she said, "It's not a long drive."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the really long wait. I know how it feels :/. I had written more, but it was really crappy, and so I felt like I couldn't change it because I'd already written it all… well, I ended up rewriting most of it anyway. So, here it is. Thanks for the reviews!**

The motel room stank of mildew, but at least not of soap.

Melissa rushed to hurriedly close the top of her duffle bag where she had left it that morning, clothes spewing out the top. Their dark tones added no interest to the gray carpet and white walls. A lone dresser stood next to the bag, but Melissa preferred to live out of just the tattered duffle. She'd gotten too used to life on the move.

The bed sat at the other side of the room, unmade with sheets tangled where Melissa had slept the previous night. She felt a flutter in Rex at the strangeness of seeing where Melissa slept. He felt that the reaction had a stalker-like quality to it, but he couldn't deny the intimacy with someone who was usually so closed off and private.

Melissa scolded herself for listening to his thoughts. No relationship would ever work if she knew what he was thinking all of the time; she was bound to eventually hear something she didn't like. Well, she thought, Rex had always been annoyed at her bitch-goddess attitude, even though he usually tried to understand. Still. Things were different, now.

She wandered over to her bed, and sat down at the edge, feet touching the floor. After a short pause of thought, Rex followed and sat down next to her.

Silence.

"Change of heart?" Rex said, gesturing toward her jeans and shirt.

She gave a weak laugh and a slight smile. "More convenient," she said. "Dresses got too hot. And tangly. Not to mention, every new midnighter we met thought I was going to eat them."

Rex chuckled. "Wouldn't they still? I see your sneer and careless attitude hasn't gone anywhere."

She frowned. "I like to think I haven't been careless or sneering so far?"

He smiled. "Except for right now." He reached out a finger to touch a tense corner of her cheek, stopping short of her skin. He rested his arm on her shoulder, hand still frozen a millimeter away from contact.

"Whatever, Loverboy. As long as you never call me a pixie again."

He laughed, his shaking body threatening contact. "It was a fairy, actually."

"Same thing." She looked at him, expressionlessly. "Why aren't you going to touch me?"

His heart beat at the probing question. "I—well, you haven't touched me yet today, so I thought yesterday was maybe just…"

She gave a laugh at his ignorance, the stretching of her cheek in her smile filling up the space needed. Her mind entered his.

The same emotions as the day before flooded both minds, save the rushed shock and adrenalin. The excitement was still there though, but at a subtler, deeper level.

_You're such a moron,_ Melissa thought to the hesitant Rex, and leaned up to kiss him.

It was a softer kiss than the day before, but she nevertheless felt as if they were closer than ever. Melissa tucked her feet under her so that she didn't have to reach up as much to kiss him. She felt his urge to kiss her harder, and his request to go farther. She ran her tongue over his lips and he quickly followed her lead. She tugged at his sweatshirt to bring him closer, but that accomplished nothing but having it slip off of his shoulder. He did move closer though, leaning down so that she no longer had to reach up. His arms encircled her waste, his thumbs stroking her rib cage through her thin shirt. Her hands moved to toy with the fabric over his chest and feel the hair behind his neck.

She quickly realized her breathing was growing more rushed and panicked with each second. Though she hated to admit it, every new, small, polite and insignificant way Rex touched her made her heart beat faster. She felt like every petty high school girl making out with her boyfriend, thinking, _he's the one_, wanting to go farther and do more with each passing second.

But it wasn't like that, not really. Not at all. She and Rex shared something unimaginable to all those careless girls; an entirely different world. They'd fought off darklings. They'd experimented with her power, enduring mind-clenching pain to try and make things better between them. They'd tried to save each other, almost killing themselves in the process. She'd been forced to run away, leave town, live on her own to find other people like them. Rex's father had died, and he'd been sent to some dreary orphanage, hours away from his home. They'd been through hell together. And somehow, through all that, they'd found a way to love each other.

Maybe, Melissa, or Cowgirl, or Bitch-Goddess to some, thought the feelings _were _the same. The same excitement, the same happiness, the same thrill at being with someone; this was the same whether you were with some guy you just met behind the bleachers at a football game or someone you'd known since you were a child and grew up with. Maybe these immediate feelings were the same. But it was what made them that mattered.

Melissa realized, she _did _love Rex. She'd loved him for a long time. It just took some experiencing to realize it. It just took some growing up.

She broke the kiss and looked at him, still tangled in his arms. Of course, he knew without a doubt everything she'd just thought. But she knew that she needed to say it, as one last step to escape the bubble of hatred and seclusion she'd been trapped in before Madeleine had taught her. Still, the words she thought she'd never say and the things she thought she'd never be able to do, terrified her. Her heart pounded in her throat. She felt sick.

It was like jumping in a cold pool; once you took off, once you made the decision, it was all over with. It would get done. Except it wasn't a cold pool; it was a warm pool, a pool of the unfamiliar. A pool of the fear of being too unlike herself, too cheesy, too typical. Still, she knew she needed to say it.

"I love you." The words were spoken, not whispered. They were spoken quickly and hastily. If they had not been spoken, they would not have been said at all; her whisper would have fallen into nothingness. She had to go all the way, or not at all.

"Cowgirl—" _These _words were whispered, due to Rex's shock that Melissa actually saidit—and of course, the happiness that she did. "I love you too."

Not knowing what else to do, Melissa met his lips again in a panic, and he kissed her back harder than ever. She wrapped her arms completely around his neck, and he wrapped his fully around her waste. He pulled her onto his lap.

Melissa realized had never been with Rex so closely before. She remembered with shock that before she left, she had only been with Rex in romantically for two weeks.

Every pleasure, every thought and desire was heard by the other the moment they thought it themselves. So, Rex had no guard when he realized this was the most alone they'd ever been, and they could do anything, anything they wanted, without interruption.

Melissa broke free of the kiss and buried her face in his neck, not wanting to pant in his face. She looked down at the skin of his shoulder, so pale and soft. Again she realized how close she was to him, sitting on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waste and arms wrapped around his neck. No wonder. Rex was an anomaly compared to any normal boy from holding off such thoughts for so long. He may have been Rex, but he was a _boy. _

"I'm sorry—that was rude. Please don't think I'm asking anything. I'm not." He voice was hoarse and she could tell he was panting, too.

Melissa's voice replied, amazingly controlled for how fast she was breathing, "But you want to."

"No, of course not!" He said.

"You're lying."

Breathing was all that followed. And then, "No."

"You can't lie to a mindcaster, Rex. Plus, are you saying you don't want me?"

"I—of course I want you."

"So then you _were _lying."

"Would you just _shut up, _Melissa?"

She smiled and laughed, surprised at the pleasure she got out of torturing Rex when she didn't even know what she, herself wanted.

After a long pause, he spoke again, quieter, calmer.

"Well, what do _you _want to do?"

Melissa rested her head sideways on his shoulder, burying her forehead in his neck, and sighed. Her arms were wrapped around him, his around her, and they just sat there for several minutes, holding each other.

"You know what the best part about being able to touch you is?" She spoke the words, even though with touch it wasn't necessary.  
_What?_

"Hugging." Melissa readjusted herself around him, so that her head rested against his clothed chest and connection was lost. "I mean, I like kissing you and all, too," she felt a flutter in her stomach at the minimal intimacy of the word, "but this is better. After not being close to anyone, and having no hope of ever being able to for so long, I just like being _with_ another person, like this.

"And I think I should let myself enjoy what's enough at the moment, before it becomes overrated."

She felt Rex's arms tighten around her, squeezing her momentarily.

And then he let go, and pushed her away.

She looked at him confusedly, and was about to tell him that leaving her alone completely wasn't what she meant—when he crawled to the head of the bed, tugging her arm along with him.

She was about to protest yet again, because she'd denied this activity—but as he kicked off his shoes and pulled up the blankets, she caught his intentions, and did the same.

Jeans are never comfortable to sleep in, but when you're being hugged, you can always make do.


End file.
